


Bank Shot

by theresalwaysaway



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Bank Robbery, F/M, Fitzsimmons Secret Valentine, Hostage Situations, Hostage standoff with happy ending, Married Couple, Post Shield AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:53:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9797300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theresalwaysaway/pseuds/theresalwaysaway
Summary: Fitz and Jemma, professors at Science and Technology Academy (formerly Shield Academy), want to start a family and will quickly outgrow their small condo. Jemma decides they should talk with a loan officer about getting pre-approved for a mortgage. The meeting is not uneventful.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [delicatelyglitterywriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/delicatelyglitterywriter/gifts).



> Written for delicatelyglitteryperson for the FitzSimmons Secret Valentine challenge.  
> The prompt was: "Trapped in a bank during a robbery" AU.

“I made an appointment at the bank about a mortgage. I think we should both go.” Jemma was putting groceries away in the kitchen of their one bedroom condo. 

Fitz sat in the breakfast nook staring intently at his tablet. From it dangled a fiber optic cable that was connected to his nearby laptop at the other end of the table. “When is it?” Fitz didn’t look up as he concentrated on the results of his quantum key encryption test.

“Tomorrow. 10 am.”

“Don’t lecture til 2 pm.” Fitz and his wife co-taught two classes at the new Science and Technology Academy: Problem Solving in the Field and Old School vs High Tech. The new academy was a reboot of the old Shield Academy.

“Great.” Jemma started peppering him with questions. “What are our assets? How much do we have in the bank?”

“You’re planning ahead.” Fitz clicked some keys on his laptop and glanced at the tablet. 

“It’s what I do. I want to know everything about the house buying process before we begin.” She had finished putting things away and shut the fridge door with a flourish.

“I expect nothing less. Can you man the laptop?”

“Sure.” She came out from the kitchen and stood over the laptop. “Are we going to be hacking into the quantum key system again?”

“Yes. Hand me the sniffer.” Reaching into his backpack, she pulled out the stapler size clamp that captured fiber optic light signals.

“What are our plans for the house?” Jemma continued with the mortgage line of questioning. 

“We’re going to live in it.” He finally looked up, puzzled. “What kind of question is that?” Fitz applied the clamp to the cable midway between the laptop and the tablet. 

“It could be an investment property—where we’d live in one side and rent out the other.” 

“Security risk. Press the send button on the laptop in 3, 2, 1, now.” Jemma tapped on the touchpad.

“Not your cup of tea?” said Jemma cocking her head to one side and smiling. 

“Decidedly not.” Fitz scanned the incoming data from the compromised cable. “Gotcha.” He addressed the sniffer clamp as he disengages it from the cable. “Thought we wouldn’t find out, did ya?”

“So you could detect someone was tapping in?”

“Yeah. Then we know it’s time to begin operation Red Herring. But that’s enough for now. I’m famished.”

“I’ll get dinner if you can get me those numbers for the mortgage meeting in the morning.”

“Deal.”

* * *

The next morning:

The first thing Fitz noticed after passing through the two sets of glass doors was the high table for filling out deposit slips and endorsing checks. Jemma also took note of her surroundings. Their training as agents kicked in automatically and in a matter of seconds they had the lay of the land: windows, doors, what was loose, what was nailed down. They both spotted the fire extinguisher at the same time and exchanged looks when they realize the other was looking at it, too. On the right were the teller stations and on the left, two offices with doors. The decor was bland, designed to appeal to everyone—neutral tones, greens, golds, and tans—like money itself. Jemma motioned to the office closest to the entrance. The nameplate outside matched the one in her very scrupulous notes. 

Fitz pointed to the free coffee area. “I’m going to see if they have any tea. Do you want some?”

“Yes, please,” said Jemma. “I’ll meet you in there.”

Jemma knocked on the office labeled “James Schmitt”. The door was already open so she stood in the threshold. “Excuse me?”

The man behind the desk looked up. Jemma extended her hand as he stood up to greet her. “Jemma Fitzsimmons, I believe we have a ten o’clock?” 

He glanced at his watch. “Ten o’clock on the dot, precisely on time.” He looked to be in his thirties, a tad portly, but his crisp white shirt, rolled-up sleeves, and firm handshake told her his work ethic was strong. “James Schmitt, but please call me James.”

“My husband will be here in just a minute.”

“Please have a seat.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re here to inquire about a mortgage?”

“We’d like to start shopping for a single-family house, but before we got too far, we thought we’d see about getting pre-approved.”

“That’s what we’re here for. You’ve come to the right place. Have you thought about how big of a house you need? Do you have any savings?”

“A little, plus the proceeds from the sale of our condo; I’m still not sure I want to let go of it, yet. Sentimental reasons.”

Just then Fitz arrived with two paper cups with tea tags hanging out of them. 

“Mr. Schmitt?” Fitz shook the loan officer’s hand. “Leo FitzSimmons, but everyone just calls me Fitz.” He sat in the second guest chair and looked around. The large office, besides the requisite desk and chairs, also housed a filing cabinet and a copier both of which stood behind Mr. Schmitt.

“Nice to meet you, Fitz. Call me James. I understand from your wife that you’d like to purchase a home.”

“Soon, but it’s not urgent or anything. Jemma likes to plan ahead.”

“I’m not a big fan of surprises. Unless there’s birthday cake involved.” She chuckled.

Mr. Schmitt began, “Before you start looking, you’ll want to know how much you qualify for and what your monthly payments would be. We can give you a very good idea of all those given you have the necessary financial data with you.”

“Of course,” Jemma replied, patting her binder.

“Let’s start with income. Can I ask where you work, Fitz?”

“We’re both professors at the Science and Technology Academy.”

“Oh, great. What do you teach?”

Jemma piped in, “He’s engineering—”

Fitz finished, “—She’s biochem.”

“And how long have you worked there?” James asked as he made notes on a legal pad.

“About six months. We also have a small side business in cybersecurity that brings in some income.”

“Hmmm. Usually we like to see a work history of two years. Where did you work before that?”

“The government,” replied Fitz.

“International agencies,” said Jemma at the same time.

Suddenly, the bank became deathly silent as the normal customer din hushed. They heard a man barking orders, “You, over there.” All three heads in the office turned to look in the main room where a man was pointing a gun at the ceiling, his back to them. He appeared to be rounding up all the customers and employees along the far wall at the back of the bank. 

Mr. Schmitt quickly turned off the light in his office and waved Fitz and Jemma around to hide behind his desk so they were out of the line of sight. There was enough daylight filtering in through the double doors that they could still see, yet remain unseen. 

The loan officer fumbled on his desk for the legal pad and hastily scribbled, “silent alarm, police here soon.” After two tense minutes, the evidence of sirens, flashing lights, and shadows of what James thinks is a SWAT team assembling outside brought momentary relief. The Fitzsimmonses were already silently formulated plans in case the gunman came their way. Of course they would rather let the local police handle this and at the moment, there was no need to take matters into their own hands. But they will if they have to.

The police were on the scene so they wait. James slid his chair out of the way to give them more space behind the desk. The gunman continued to roughly address the hostages. Fitz took the pen and wrote, “Hostages.” James looked grim, nodded his head and wrote, “Police will negotiate. Safe here for now.” He turned to Jemma to reassure her. Jemma responded by mouthing, “I’m okay.” She was more that okay. She came in with a plan for the future and no criminal or crazed lunatic was going to mess with those plans.

A phone rang and the agitated gunman yelled, “Nobody move!” The man picked up the phone and could be heard speaking with, presumably, a police hostage negotiator. The three trapped in the office couldn’t make out particulars, but the lone gunman making demand after demand, clearly wanted more than money. Minutes slowly ticked by as police tried to get the gunman to release the hostages without incident. 

Fitz wrote “mirror” and showed Jemma. She immediately pulled out her makeup mirror and handed it to Fitz. James looked at Jemma inquiringly and put his hands out palms up as if to say “What’s he doing?” Jemma mimed putting two fingers up to her eyes and mouthed “Look”. James seemed alarmed but Fitz was already moving. Fitz crept closer to the door, inching the mirror toward the opening to see what was going on at the back of the bank. He could make out the gunman gripping the phone in one hand and wielding a handgun in the other continually waving it at the hostages. Fitz snuck back and wrote, “If we distract him, the police will rush in.” 

James’s eyes grew wide and he vigorously shook his head as he mouthed, “Too dangerous.” Fitz and Jemma exchanged glances. Jemma grabbed the pen. “We used to work in security. Stay back.” 

It was then that the loan officer noticed they both had guns! James, aghast, covered his mouth before any surprised noises could escape. Jemma placed two more words on the paper: “concealed carry.” James, shaking his head, fell soundlessly back to the floor and leaned against the wall next to the copier. 

Fitz took the pen and, smiling, wrote, “Can we borrow some toner?” James, still shocked at the numerous turns of events, just wrote: “Take whatever you need.” Jemma flashed a grin at Fitz mouthing the word, “Brilliant.” Fitz, looking at Jemma, pointed to himself, made a throwing motion, then pointing to Jemma, put both hands together to make a gun and pretended to shoot at the ceiling. Jemma nods once and instantly delegates to James the job of getting the toner out. Fitz and Jemma, hands on their sidearms, crouched in front of James while he carefully opened the copier and slowly extracted the toner cartridge. James handed the cartridge to Jemma who passed it on to Fitz crouching just behind the open door. He backed up and allowed Jemma to stand with her back to the wall, gun in hand, ready to turn and fire as soon as Fitz threw the toner cartridge. Taking two quick steps, Fitz planted his feet in the opening and heaved the cartridge toward the ceiling at the back of the bank.

The toner went sailing up into the peripheral vision of the gunman. Dropping the phone, the gunman turned, fired at it and missed. Jemma’s aim was true and the cartridge released its contents in a big black cloud covering the perpetrator with powder.  
Hearing gunfire and seeing the smoke, the police didn’t delay any longer and stormed the building. They quickly subdued the gunman, secured his gun, and escorted him out of the building. 

Once the gunman was outside the building, Fitz said to James, “It’s safe.” James emerged from his hiding place and looked in awe at the scene inside the bank. A few police officers were helping the hostages. Others were investigating the rest of the building making sure everyone was accounted for. The cloud of black powder had dissipated, but a thin film of black dust covered the carpet directly beneath ground zero. The crippled toner cartridge lay exactly where it landed and someone with a clipboard was making notes and taking pictures.

James was beside himself. “That...that was amazing.” He breathed out a long sigh of relief. “It’s almost like you had done that before.” 

Fitz and Jemma smiled at each other. “Maybe,” said Fitz.

“Never with toner though,” added Jemma. 

“No, that’s a first.” 

James put his hand out. “I’d just like to shake both your hands.” He realized there’s quite a bit of black powder on them and retracted it. But Fitz showed him his blackened hand as well, offering it with a smile as they shook hands. “Thank for choosing our bank and today to come in. You saved the day.” 

“Sometimes it’s a dirty job, but somebody’s got to do it,” Jemma said as she too shook James’ hand.

Police officers approached the trio. One of them said, “Everyone okay here?” Jemma stepped up, showed them her weapon and explained her role in the capture of the hostage taker. “We’ll want your statements. Don’t leave until our investigators have talked to you, all three of you.”

Jemma turned to James, “I guess we can use this time to reschedule?”

James just laughed and said to Fitz, “That’s a goal-oriented woman. Doesn’t anything deter her?”

Eyes shining, Fitz looked at Jemma, “Not when she’s on a mission.”

After all the statements were recorded, they headed outside and ran straight into a bevy of reporters. Some of the hostages had told of the amazing way they were rescued by the woman who came out of nowhere to stop their tormenter. The reporters had been covering the tense standoff, reporting live when possible and there were rumors swirling that national news sources wanted to pick it up. Everyone needed their own angle on the gorgeous science professor who wielded a gun.

“Were you involved in the hostage event?” A reporter accompanied by a cameraman asked.

Jemma stood tall and spoke confidently and authoritatively. “My husband and I have been in the bank since 10 o’clock. We were not hostages.”

“What is your name?”

“Jemma Fitzsimmons.”

“Mrs. Fitzsimmons, how did you happen to be in the bank this morning?” 

“We’re just college professors trying to get a mortgage.” 

“Do you always carry a weapon with you?” 

“The local police, wonderful people, granted me a permit to carry a concealed weapon and I sometimes carry it on me. I was glad I was able to help end the standoff.”

Another reporter in the back yelled, “What do you say to people who will call you a vigilante?”

“We just happened to escape the notice of the gunman and we used that position to our advantage to provide a distraction. The police did the rest.”

Questions were coming from all sides now. “How did you know the toner cartridge would explode like that?”

“I didn’t. That was my husband’s idea.”

“Why didn’t he fire the shot?”

“He has a better throwing arm and I have better aim. That’s all the questions I have time for. We have lecturing responsibilities at the Academy. Thank you.” In one smooth move, she pivoted and walked over to a waiting Fitz who fell into step with her. 

He had grabbed her binder and deposited into her hands. “You handled the media like a pro.”

“I used to supply Mace lines. I think it rubbed off.” Her face was a mixture of incredulous amusement. “It was brilliant to use the toner. No one was in the line of fire and even it I missed—”

“—He’d still shoot at it, yeah. But you didn’t miss. I didn’t think you would.” They had reached their car and got in.

“You don’t think I’m a vigilante?” Jemma said as she put her seatbelt on. 

“You’re an opportunist. You saw the opportunity for target practice…” He formed his one hand like a gun and pretended to shoot at an object beyond the windshield. “Bullseye. I feel very safe with you around.” With his hand on her shoulder, he reached over and kissed her.

She smiled broadly at him as he started the engine. “That copier wasn’t safe around you.” 

Fitz retorted, “I beg to differ. While you were talking with the detectives, I installed a new toner cartridge, did some maintenance, adjusted a few settings. I’ll have you know I left it better than I found it.”

“Of course you did. You did that with me, too, you know. I’m better than when you found me.”

“The feeling is mutual, Jemma.”

“We’ll have to go back again and talk about actual mortgages with James. But I think we made a friend for life.”

“He couldn’t stop shaking my hand. ‘Anytime you want to do business with us… Anytime… We could use more customers like you.’ He thanked me about thirty times.”

“He doesn’t know all the worse predicaments we’ve encountered!” Jemma shook her head slowly, remembering. “I love our life, now. You and me together building the next generation of science agents.”

“And maybe the next generation of Fitzsimmonses.” 

“Yeah.”

* * *

Three months later:

“James!” Jemma cried as she entered the bank. 

“Hey!” James and Jemma embraced and Fitz followed close behind. “It’s the big day. The boss is waiting.”

They walked briskly down the hall to a conference room. A few lawyers in business suits sipped coffee in the back. Papers sat in two neat piles in the middle of the table, between them some pens and a set of keys. 

The sellers, an older couple happily downsizing, were sitting at the table. When she saw the couple buying their house, the woman, Mrs. Wilson, got up from the table. “It’s the Fitzsimmonses.” She approached Jemma and smiled warmly. “It’s so good to see you again. How are you?”

“We’re on break from the Academy but as busy as ever. Packing of course. And there’s other news.” She looks lovingly at Fitz who is chatting with Mr. Wilson.

“Oh?” 

“I’m expecting!” 

“Oh, honey! I’m so happy for you.” Mrs. Wilson got her husband’s attention. “Frank, they’re going to be parents!” 

Mr. Wilson immediately congratulated Fitz by both shaking his hand and clapping him on the shoulder. “We had many happy times in that house with our own children. I wish the same for you.”

James addressed those gathered, “Excuse me everyone. Let’s get started with the closing. I will now turn it over to my boss, Mr. Howard Kraft, president of the bank.”

Mr. Kraft waited until everyone had taken their seats. “As you know, we are here to officially shift ownership of property owned by the Wilsons to the Fitzsimmonses. I just want to take this time to thank the Fitzsimmonses once again for their role in ending the hostage standoff on that terrible morning. In gratitude, we have waived the closing costs on your mortgage. We are truly lucky to have you as customers.”

Once all the papers were initialed and signed, Mr. Wilson pushed the keys over to the new owners. “They’re yours now,” he said.

“I guess they are.” Fitz nodded once to the older man.

People were still mingling and making small talk when the bank president approached Fitz who was showing the keys to Jemma. “I see you have the keys. They reminded me I wanted to run something past you both. You have some expertise in cybersecurity? Specifically quantum key distribution? We have encryption keys now, but no way of knowing if someone is grabbing our fiber optic data. Whereas a quantum key can tell us whether the line is being hacked.”

“Big banks have long held this technology,” said Fitz. “But there’s no reason smaller banks such as this one shouldn’t be able to get it.”

“That’s exactly why I wanted to speak with you. You might be saving the day once again, Mr. Fitzsimmons.”

Jemma noticed Mrs. Wilson standing behind the bank president and excused herself to say goodbye to her. Mrs. Wilson beamed. “I’m just so happy a nice young couple like yourselves is taking over the house. It’s a great neighborhood for children.”

“Thank you. And we’ll have to have you over once we get settled.”

“That would be lovely. All the best to you and your family.”

“Thank you.”

Jemma found Fitz just as he was wrapping up with the bank president. “How’d it go?”

“I think we have a new customer!” Fitz found her hand and began walking toward the exit. 

“New customer, new house, new baby! I think we should celebrate.” said Jemma.

As they pushed the doors open together, unwilling to drop hands, Fitz said, “Just what does this celebration entail?”

“I think we should begin with some intense snuggling on the couch.”

“Hmmm. And then what?” 

“And then we just see what happens.”

“Like an experiment?”

“A very scientific one.”

“I suppose you’ll want a full report.”

“Indeed. We many need to run many trials in the future.”

“That sounds marvelous, Mrs. Fitzsimmons, just marvelous.”


End file.
